Supernova
by FlowerPot21
Summary: Sometimes things, important things, like love, burn too bright, too passionate, too glorious to survive, and it implodes, like a supernova...but it never completely dies...rewritten sequel to In the Stars. EC. Aligned has been removed.
1. One

_Did not like the direction of _**Aligned**_ and it has been removed. This is the rewrite of the sequel to _**In the Stars**_. From Calleigh's POV. Enjoy!

* * *

_

Supernova

**One**

It's been one month since you've been home from your honeymoon, two months since you married Eric Delko in the craziest, most impulsive moment in your life. For two months now, you've been _Mrs. Delko_, and it still makes you smile. You stare at your wedding ring a lot more than you thought you would; but you do that because you don't get to wear it at work and it stings a little because, well, you feel proud, and you want everyone to know that you now enjoy the privileges and pleasures of being a wife.

You enjoyed your month long honeymoon in Puerto Rico.

Time away did you both some good; the cool, crisp ocean breeze helped you recover, healed your sore lungs, and the sun brought the flush and color back to your skin, and as for Eric, his skin also tanned a bit more, he's a little leaner, just a little, and that is from the extra time he spent swimming in the ocean, from the diving he did. Of course, he only did all of that once you convinced him to stop hovering. You wanted to go diving with him, snorkel and see the fish, but he wouldn't hear of it. You knew that it wasn't possible, not after the setback you'd had with your respiratory condition.

You were amazed at how far out into the water he could swim, and you were slightly worried as you sat on the blanket, just watching him swimming smoothly and with such ease, it seemed, against the waves; you watched his muscles flex, you saw the silvery glint from sunlight reflecting on his slick skin. You could feel how happy he was, sense his concentration, felt the cool water rolling over him...you laughed quietly to yourself, thinking that with his position at the SA's office, the traveling back and forth, your pregnancy, and then of course, sadly, dealing with the loss of the baby, your depression, and then the fire, just recently, he'd truly been a fish out of water. He barely had any time to himself.

The days you spent together were leisurely, lazy, and the nights were spent listening to the music from the Estrella Bar, him cooking and feeding you a little more day by day ("I'll fatten you up yet," he'd said), mornings spent drinking coffee or tea on the porch, afternoons picnicking on the beach, evenings sharing soft kisses, whispering sweet nothings between dances...

But that wasn't even the highlight.

You grin into your steaming mug of coffee.

It _was_ your honeymoon after all.

You and Eric finally made love on the last leg of your honeymoon, and if your cheeks weren't sore from the wide, goofy smile you had on your face for most of the night and the morning after...your skin and his skin damp with sweat, locks of your hair plastered to your neck and forehead, bodies cooled only by the breeze coming in through the opened window. The both of you were sprawled across the bed, naked as the day was long, the bedcovers in a messy cascade over the edge of the bed, your limbs motionless, both of you dizzy with euphoria, and splendidly exhausted.

It took you a bit to catch your breath; Eric was hesitant about making love to you because of course he wanted you well, but you wanted him, oxygen be damned. Well, your body got back at you for that one, and you had to use the inhaler.

"Are you in pain?" He asked, putting his hand on your abdomen.

"Mmhm," you managed, and he showered you with kisses and apologies. "But it was well worth it, love, I can assure you."

He chuckled a bit, but he was still concerned. He was concerned, is always concerned, loving, tender...because that is the man you married.

Eric Delko.

The same Eric Delko who is your best friend, your partner, your confidant, your heart, your lover...

_Your husband_.

You returned to work a week after you got home from Puerto Rico, and you knew that you still had stars in your eyes because Natalia only laughed at the little gleeful bounce in your step, and others in the lab that you work with who weren't privy to your nuptials, only looked at you sideways, wondering what had you feeling extra perky.

You hear heavy footsteps coming down the hallway, and you set your coffee down on the coffee table before you turn round, curling your knees and tucking your feet under you as you fold your arms over the back of the couch.

Eric emerges into the living area, combing his fingers through his hair before he he comes over to you and kisses you softly.

"Morning, babe."

"Morning," you say with a smile, and he smoothes over your hair before he heads into the kitchen.

Even after a night's sleep, he still smells so good, so handsome and masculine; he smells like soap, and cologne, and just _him_. You remember wrinkling up your nose when you discovered close to a year and a half ago the morning after you made love in his bedroom a few weeks in to your relationship that he alternated between using Lever 2000 and Irish Spring, and that he used scentless lotion and used Brute cologne, like his father. You never knew what he used to make himself smell so intoxicating, and you remember being happy at finding out that intimate detail about him. You wrinkled up your nose because you were so tickled by that.

You rest your chin onto your folded arms as you watch Eric.

Eric is most definitely not a morning person; he is always a little slower than you are at getting up. Sometimes, it is not always because he's still sleepy, it's because he likes to lounge around, drink some coffee, read the paper...or engage in certain intimate activities with you which in turn slows down your own morning routine...not that you mind.

You watch as he grabs his favorite sienna brown mug and then pours some coffee into it. Your eyes take the opportunity to scan over his body, and you blush. He's always been in shape, for as long as you've known him; he played baseball all throughout high school and college, but he has a slight swimmer's build. You love the way his strong arms envelop you at night in bed, or when you're cooking...or when you're just turned away from him and he catches you off guard. You are still amazed, simply amazed at how perfect you and him fit together in every way possible. When you make love, even though your are small compared to him, his weight against your body is just right, never painful or uncomfortable. Though much taller, he always treats you with gentleness, his much larger hands there to comfort, not to hurt.

You remember you picked up right where you left off when he returned to work the Davenport/Sheffield case. You told yourself that it was going to be _just coffee_. Well, you didn't even make coffee because the minute you closed the door to your home, you were pressed up against it, his oh so delicious lips on yours. You knew that it was going to happen, didn't resist when you both shed clothes and made a mad dash for your bedroom. After, you remember Eric caressing his hand over your cheek, whispering his apology about everything, every infraction in your relationship, and you only cuddled closer to him, kissing him...forgiving him.

Eric is devoted to you now more than ever, and you are devoted to him.

You are completely in love with this man..._your_ man, your husband.

You watch as he grabs the box of Cinnamon Toast Crunch.

Of course, much as you love him, there are just some things that he does that get on your last damn nerve, like right now.

He comes over to the couch with a large bowl of cereal, and his cup of coffee, and then, he picks up the remote control and turns on the television to some channel, cutting through your hopes of the peaceful morning you wanted to share with him. But then again, you forgot.

It's the weekend, and he's in his tank top and sweatpants.

Eric puts his feet up on the coffee table and then settles in with his bowl of cereal, and you know what that means; he's not going anywhere today, and you can forget getting any form of affection from him for the next few hours. You tilt your head to the side and put your hands in your lap as you look at him.

By no means has the novelty worn off in your marriage, or your relationship as a whole, (at least, not yet), but this isn't even the biggest thing that Eric does that annoys you.

You can't stand the way he folds his laundry. He just does that flop, flop, plunk thing with it, the kind of folding that makes excessive wrinkles in both yours and his clothing, making ironing a difficult, and irritating chore. You can't stand the way he just leaves his socks and shoes on the floor in the bedroom, you don't like it when Eric completely ignores you for the better part of two and a half hours every Friday evening when he calls his mother, it makes you frown when you buy fresh bread from your favorite bakery in Calle Ocho, and he leaves it sitting out on the wooden cutting board instead of covering it up and putting it in the bread box; it irks you even more when he just shrugs in response to your nit-picking.

You gently bite your bottom lip.

You get miffed whenever he badgers you about not finishing a book you've started that he lent to you from _his_ shelf in the office. Eric is an avid reader, somehow managing to finish books within one, two weeks tops with his hectic schedule. You've only known this for a couple of years now how much Eric likes to read, and when you began dating, you found out that he devoted most of his evenings to reading, whether it be journals, novels, current events...anything. You prefer a more...lax reading schedule, and that, in turn annoys Eric like it annoys you how he presses you to finish a book. But his most irritating habit by far is when he does exactly opposite of what you ask him to do. It can be anything-you suggested to him just the other day that he should work on the backyard. His response: "I'm going to do the front, babe." Another instance is when you asked if he could go to the cheaper gas station instead of the one right around the corner from his apartment; "_Carina, _it's the same price," he said, when the other gas station was almost fifteen cents lower, and he pulled into the one close to his apartment.

Then, when you say something, he looks at you like you've got the problem.

You find yourself inadvertently glaring at him, and you straighten your face.

Despite his many, many irritating habits, you love Eric passionately. His redeeming qualities remind you that you can't stay mad at him forever, that it is possible for you to be easy to forgive.

Because you are easy to forgive, it is little moments like this one that don't give you too much pause, so just for a giggle...

"So, what do you want to do today?"

He shrugs noncommittally in the midst of munching on his cereal.

"Nothin'," he says, and you roll your eyes and smile.

He looks at you rather suspiciously. "Why do I get the feeling that you're having a good laugh at my expense?"

You giggle as you gently take the bowl from him and place it on the coffee table before you straddle him.

"Maybe I'm trying to spend time with my husband..."

"Ah," he smirks, putting his hands on your hips.

"Tear him away from..." You pause and turn to see what is on the television, and you turn back to him, eyebrow raised. "_Tombstone_."

"Mmhm," he grins, caressing over your lower back. "You most certainly are much prettier to look at."

"You're such a charmer."

"I like to think that's one of the many reasons why you married me."

You shrug. "I guess...either way, can't go back now...since we said 'never to part.' I reckon I'm stuck with you, love."

He chuckles and pulls you closer. "She makes it all sound so bad..."

You kiss him softly.

"Well, it's not _that_ bad," you tease. "But...we do need to discuss some things."

"What things?"

You caress your hands down his chest.

"It's been two months," you begin. "We escaped the wrath, but now, it's back on."

"What are you talking about?"

"Our parents."

"Right..."

"And...the living situation."

Eric furrows his eyebrows. "I wasn't aware that we had a situation with the living..."

"Eric, we need to move in together, dear."

He kisses you softly. "My place, or yours?"

You can't help but smile.

"I love you," comes your heartfelt, easy declaration.

You are so glad that two months ago, you finally acted on the faith you had in your life with Eric to tell him, in steady, certain words, that you love him. And that is a declaration that will never fail, never waver.


	2. Two

Supernova

**Two**

Families _can_ be normal.

That was your first thought when you shared dinner with the Delko family for the first time four years ago. It'd been a few weeks after Marisol's funeral, and Eric had to practically drag you with him. Apparently, you'd somehow made an impression on his mother between serving finger foods, tea, and consoling Horatio. You were nervous, unsure of what to expect because for one, you _clearly_ didn't fit in on his parents' side of town. A petite, blonde haired, green eyed, fair skinned Southern girl in the middle of a mostly Cuban neighborhood? Kind of hard not to be noticed, but then again, you are certain now that those very attributes that you possessed caused you to be noticed by his family.

His other two sisters thanked you for being one of the few genuine best friends he had. That was the first time Eric ever held your hand; well, not exactly _held_, more like took your hand in his and gently and showed you around his childhood home, guiding you through memories, through pictures, rooms, pasts, futures...the spaces Marisol took up until she left home, left them altogether.

You remember keenly the feel of your soft hand in his, how your heart, despite the ache you felt for Eric, had fluttered and raced for a few minutes at the sight of the contrast of his darker skin against your fair skin.

"Oh, you just work with Eric," his mother sighed with relief when you met Clorinda.

"Yes," you said solemnly. "I'm sorry for your loss, Mrs. Delko. I didn't know your daughter very well, but if Marisol was anything like Eric is to you, to me, and the team...then you were so blessed to have had her."

"Thank you, _mijita_."

The ease with which that term of endearment slipped from his mother's lips astounded you, and when you looked at Eric, you knew that something had changed between the both of you, changed for him...because you felt it too.

You grin a bit, fast forwarding to when you deepened your relationship and to the first evening you had dinner with his family as his girlfriend...officially, and a new kind of nervousness struck you. Sure, his sisters liked you well enough as their little brother's dear, close friend...but as his girlfriend, and a potential mate? For the first time in your life, you actually had sweaty palms and you wrung your fingers under the dinner table. Eric took your hand in his, squeezing gently, rubbing his thumb over your knuckles.

His family welcomed you with open arms, and you know that Eric was glad.

Now you are used to dinners with the Delkos, but you still find yourself in awe of the way they talk about anything and everything, share memories, laugh at the ones being made…you became addicted to the openness of it all, and the closeness. There were no intense, heated arguments, no accusations, no one in separate spaces eating their dinners and no TV either. It's interesting how it's never considered a burden, or awkward for Eric's family to be around each other. It's something that they want and look forward to. It's the most important thing in the world to them.

And now it is to you too.

But you are nervous all over again because now you are having dinner with Eric's parents...as his _wife_. It doesn't help anything that you don't have the buffer of his sisters and their families. Clorinda had been none too happy to hear, as you and Eric were in the airport about to go on your honeymoon, that you'd gotten married and were leaving for a month.

Now, tonight is the night of reckoning.

Your nuptials have become a little family controversy on both sides, and you are starting to think that your father might be a little more understanding than Eric's mother.

Eric pulls up to the house and he gets out then he goes round to the passenger side and opens the door for you.

"Babe, it's going to be okay," he assures you.

You walk up to the front porch hand in hand, and he opens the door and you step inside first, then he follows. As soon as the smell of dinner surrounds you, your stomach starts growling and you're ready to sample and help finish up the cooking. You always volunteer to taste the food before sitting down and stuffing yourself with homemade tortillas and delicious marinated chicken, and black bean soup. Eric always tells you that you turn into a greedy little thing whenever you have dinner at his parents' house. You only laugh and tell him to find some containers and pack up some food for later.

"Hey, we're here," Eric calls.

"In the kitchen, _mijo_," Clorinda calls.

You make your way into the kitchen where his mother is just finishing up with making dinner. He kisses his mother's cheek.

Clorinda looks at you and Eric rather scornfully.

"Well, if it isn't my only son and his wife that I didn't get to see him marry."

Her capacity for bitterness surprises you.

"Ma, again with this?"

"Yes, again, Eric," Clorinda frets as she pushes past both of you with a steaming pot of marinated chicken mixed with guilt and dramatic despair.

You look over to Eric's father, Pavel, who is sitting in the living room, ignoring his wife's tirade and nodding and humming his agreement on cue like a pro.

Pavel Delko is a man of very..._very_ few words. He's not distant by any means, it's just that he's more of a man of action, and when he actually does speak, he doesn't mince words, is always to the point, and has wisdom to impart. Like his father, you found that Eric is a man of his word, and a man of action, though a little more talkative than his father.

"And you," Clorinda huffs, turning to look at you. "I never expected this out of you...you're the level-headed one!"

"Hey," Eric frowns, offended.

"And what about your parents?"

You shrug. "I'm sorry," you offer meekly.

Clorinda mutters a lamenting prayer under her breath before setting the table.

Once dinner is ready, you sit down at the table in the dining table.

You blush when Eric kisses your cheek.

For a few minutes, you eat in silence, and as soon as the food gets in your stomach, it immediately rebels, making you queasy because of the anxiety you feel.

"So," your mother-in-law begins, cutting through the silence. "How has the new marriage been?"

You both look up from your plates.

"It's been good," Eric answers.

"Really good..." You add with a slight smile. "We're um...right now we're in the process of moving in together. Eric decided to sell his condo, a-and h-he wants to move into my house."

"You see? This is what I'm talking about," Clorinda sighs. "You two just rushed into this without any forethought whatsoever. Marriage is a big responsibility."

"We know that," Eric sighs.

You take a sip of your wine.

"Your sisters and I all are so sad that we didn't get to see you and Calleigh get married...You don't know how hurt I was, _hijo_."

"It's not that we didn't want you there," Eric begins.

"We were just going to get married on our own," you shrug.

"So you were going to elope?" Clorinda asks you incredulously.

"Yes."

"Cal..."

"Well we were. For heaven's sake, Eric, there's no point in lying."

"Eric, you always said that you wanted to get married in the church," his mother reminds him. "With out priest. Ever since you were a little boy..."

"I said a lot of things when I was little," he says defensively. "I also said that I was going to build a house entirely out of those orange lollipops you used to give us...you gonna hold me to that too?"

Clorinda glares at Eric and she throws a curve ball and mutters something in Russian, and you can't understand a lick of Russian, which is probably a good thing right now, because by the look on her face, and the shocked look on Eric's, it was something just down right offensive.

"Ma..."

"The only reason why our close friends were there is because one of them walked in on us talking about it," you explain quickly.

She sighs, shaking her head. "All I could think about was Marisol...we didn't get to see our daughter get married...and we didn't see our only son get married."

There's the guilt.

You bite your bottom lip. "We didn't mean to hurt anyone, that wasn't our intention. We apologize if we did. We just wanted it really to be about us, and make our commitment to each other."

Clorinda nods.

"Do you think that you and Calleigh would be open to having a real wedding?"

"Ma, we're not having another ceremony. We like the ceremony we had."

"We can't recapture that moment..."

"Yes you can," Clorinda presses.

"_Mami_ we're not having a second wedding," Eric insists. "We...we didn't want to wait."

Clorinda nods. "Yes, I understand, _hijo_. But I am your mother, and...you don't know how much it would have meant to me and your father to have been there."

"I know," Eric says.

"It would have been nice to celebrate some good news," Clorinda says tentatively. "Especially after...the baby."

Your stomach lurches at the mention of the baby, but you fight it, and you feel Eric's hand on your lower back, caressing softly.

"_Mami_..."

"I am sorry," she says regretfully, looking to her husband, who is giving her a look. "I didn't-"

Pavel holds up his hand, and she quiets, and you look over to your father-in-law.

"This is long overdue," Pavel begins in his accent, raising his glass. "Eric, my son, I am proud of you, and I congratulate you. For your happiness, we will pray, and may God bless your life together in every way imaginable. Calleigh, _mija, _моя дочь, welcome to our family."

All of you raise your glasses.

"_Salud_," Clorinda says happily.

"_Salud_!"

You touch your glasses together.

After you try and finish dinner, you talk with your in-laws for a bit, then you and Eric prepare to leave, but all of the anxiety, plus the mentioning of the baby, which is still a touchy subject for you, has unraveled you a bit, and you need some air.

You go out to the front porch, arms crossed over your chest.

"Babe, you okay?" Eric asks, coming out and checking up on you.

"Yeah, I'll be a minute," you smile over your shoulder before sitting on the swing.

On top of anxiety, you are now experiencing sudden feelings of grief. You know that Clorinda meant no harm, she didn't mention the baby to hurt you, but it still stung because it reminded you of the physical pain, and the emotional pain of everything that came after it.

You sigh as you swing lightly for a few minutes longer, then you go back into the house.

You stop just short of Eric's old room on the way to the bathroom; you realized you left your makeup bag in there, and you wanted to retrieve it. You back up a few steps and listen to the hushed voices of Eric and his mother.

"Ma, from the bottom of my heart, I'm sorry. It's just...when Calleigh was in the hospital, we both realized that we couldn't wait. Time waits for no one."

"I know, I know," Clorinda agrees.

You grin a bit, glad that she's coming around.

"But _hijo_, you've been through so much already, and Calleigh, too. Everything just...happened so quickly between you two. I worry that it's too intense, Eric, that once this uh...happy phase wears off, that you and Calleigh will..."

You furrow your eyebrows.

"Calleigh and I have endured worse...I'm in love with her, she's my wife now. We have a commitment. We're not going to walk away from that. Ever. You don't have to worry about us."

"It's not _you_ I'm so much worried about, _mijo_. I love Calleigh, but...since the baby, then almost losing her life again, she's been different..."

"Mom Calleigh are okay," he assures. "Cal and I will be fine, trust me."

"I know, _hijo_. I know that you will take good care of her. And if you two need anything..."

"I got it Ma," Eric chuckles.

You quickly go into the bathroom and close the door softly.

"Thanks for dinner, _mami_," he says appreciatively. "Love you."

"Love you too, _mijo_."

You flush the toilet, and run the water in the sink.

You exit the bathroom, and you smile when you see Eric standing at the door with his parents.

"Thanks so much for dinner," you say as you hug Clorinda and Pavel.

Clorinda smiles tearfully at you.

When you arrive home, you both sit on the couch, and Eric gently pulls you to him.

"Eric?"

"Yeah?"

"Do you..." You hesitate, gently biting your bottom lip before continuing. "Am I...different to you now? Do you see me differently?"

"What do you mean?" He asks.

"Since..." You look away, blinking away tears.

"Cal-"

"I overheard you and your mom."

He sighs. "She was just...concerned."

"About if we're going to make it...if I'd leave you."

"I told her that's not gonna happen," Eric assures. "And that neither of us are going to walk away now."

You shake your head. "What if she's right? What if everything falls apart again?"

"Calleigh, look at me," he says softly.

You look at him.

"I love you," he says, kissing your cheek. "You're...everything to me, my world, Calleigh. I love who you are, and...I guess I do see you differently. You're my wife, and I see you as my wife, the woman I'm so proud of, the woman that I'm insanely in love with. I'm here to stay, babe, and...just because things haven't really been going our way lately, doesn't change the way I feel about you, how I see you."

You kiss your husband softly, and you settle back into him.

You both sit in comfortable silence for a few moments before you sit up a bit to look at him.

"Hey..."

"What?" He asks, looking at you.

"Your dad talked."

"I know..." He marvels, furrowing his eyebrows.

You giggle as you slink your arm over his abdomen again.

You and him.

_Mr. _and _Mrs. Delko_.

You are simplicity and complications and certainty...you rush toward it.


	3. Three

_Had to put in some kind of "closure" on the Calleigh and Jake saga. Enjoy.

* * *

_

Supernova

**Three**

You thought that you'd seen a ghost.

You were focused on what Jesse was saying one second, then the next, out of your periphery, you saw a shadow moving quick through the crowd of angry commuters, you saw the silhouette of a person most familiar to you, and you had to blink a few times before your eyes made out the being slivering through the crowd.

Jake.

You hadn't heard from him in...too long, and he shows up out of the blue, like he always does, and throws a monkey wrench into your plans, your life...your heart. Jake was your first love, and you know that the twinge of guilt and feelings will always be there. You've made it clear to him that you no longer feel the exact same way, that you can no longer stand to wait for him.

Now, as you look at him all puffed up and playing Mr. Tough guy as the doctor examines him, you just feel guilt. On the job, you don't wear your wedding ring; you're afraid that you might lose it, so you put it in your pocket for safe keeping and put it on after work. Jake has no idea what's been going on in your life, what's happened...that you're married to Eric now. You contemplate the words to tell him as you gently nibble your bottom lip, a nervous habit of yours. You watch as Jake nods and then shoos away the doctor and gets off the table.

He gives you that lopsided, cocky grin.

"Let's get outta here, Lula-Mae."

You can't help but grin, rolling your eyes as you walk out with him.

You just know that Eric is going to bristle at the knowledge that Jake is a part of this case.

It has been no secret to you that your husband and Jake have bad blood between them. For obvious reasons concerning you, Eric loathes Jake, and Jake can't stand Eric because of what Jake perceived to be the influence that Eric had on your decision to end your relationship with him.

Either way, you know that this is going to turn into a long day for you.

"Am I drivin' or are you?" Jake asks.

"I'm drivin'," you drawl as you open up the driver's side and get in.

Jake slips in to the passenger side.

"Where do you want me to take you?"

He shrugs. "Don't care...I just gotta lay low."

You look over at him. He looks thinner these days, and not in a good way; he looks unhealthy, like he hadn't eaten a proper meal for all the running he does, all the dangerous work he does. He looks scruffy, stressed, and exhausted.

You sigh, turning in the seat to look at him.

"Jake...when're you gonna...get out?" You ask.

He shrugs. "I don't know...soon. But then, what am I going to do?"

"Have a normal life, Jake. Work at the department..."

"I tried that, I got antsy."

"Because you didn't try hard enough. I know that coming out of UC is a huge transition. I know that you have to shift out of the fantasy into the real, but...I can tell that it's taken a toll on you."

He smirks. "Enough about me...you look nice."

You smile softly. "Thanks..."

"You look happy."

"Yeah..."

"Eric?"

You nod. "Eric has been really good to me...he's...good _for_ me."

Jake looks away. "That's great," he replies curtly.

"Don't do that..."

He looks at you again. "I'm sorry. I'm happy for you, Lula-Mae."

"Don't call me that, Jake."

"You remember why I call you that?"

You do remember, nod your confirmation.

"When I was a kid," he begins. "I knew I was going to marry the perfect girl; she had long blonde hair, sweet eyes, kissable lips...the perfect Southern Belle. Women like that were just sweet, adorable...a regular Lula-Mae 'cause she was just a good woman."

You grin a bit. "You'll find her one day, Jake."

"But I'll just have to call her a different name," he despairs. "I think about you, Calleigh. Almost everyday...look uh...I don't have much money, but I've got enough for some coffee. Maybe you and I-"

"I can't, Jake."

You knew that he was going to do this; try and worm his way into your heart again. You're much stronger now though, you're insanely in love with Eric...

"Eric's the jealous type, I know."

"It's not that," you explain.

"Cal, it's-"

"I'm married," you reveal, looking at him. "Eric and I are married."

You see his Adam's apple move with the slow swallow he takes.

"How long?"

"Three months."

"Oh...congrats."

"Thanks."

You see the hurt and regret on his face, and you sigh and start the car.

"Uh, Cal, I think I'm gonna hoof it from here," he says, opening up the door.

"Jake-"

"It's okay, Calleigh," he smiles. "I know you've gotta get back to work. I'm good, alright? Don't worry about me, Lula-Mae."

You feel your heart break for him. You know that if you let him walk away again, that you won't see him for a long, long time. He is truly lost, and there is nothing you can do to keep him from drowning anymore. Jake has to find his own way.

"Okay."

With that, he gets out of the Hummer, closes the door, bids you one last goodbye, then he heads on his way.

/\/\/\/\

When Eric told you to "Save a little something," you were looking forward to a romantic evening after drinks with the team.

You frown when you come into the house and find Eric sorting through boxes.

"Eric, what is this?"

"I'm unpacking...finally."

You pout, and he laughs at you.

"Cal..."

You whine as you saunter over to him. "I thought you were hinting at the fantasy I've been entertaining in my mind all night...not unpacking."

He smiles at you and wraps his arms around your waist.

"_Carina_, we've been stumbling around boxes, and I've been living out of them for three weeks."

"And you chose _tonight_, when that leer you gave me has me all hot and bothered..."

He raises an eyebrow at you. "You're hot and bothered, are you?"

You put a finger to his lips before he can kiss you. "Nuh uh, Mister. Since you're in the mood to unpack...I _guess_ I'll help you."

You go and change into some comfortable clothes, then you sit across from Eric on the floor, a large box between you, and you help him rummage through it.

His furniture is still in his condo, and he plans to put it in storage once he gets an acceptable offer from the realtor. You helped him rearrange it for the open house, and then you made sure to get all of his personal things, and some of yours that you've left behind out so that the open houses go well, along with a deep cleaning of every nook and cranny of the place. You hope the condo sells soon, which it should, because it is in a prime location for one, and it's a condo...in Miami. You figure that some young hotshot will come along and snatch it up soon.

You take out a rather dusty photo album and you smile when you see a picture of a six year old Eric smiling up at the camera with his two front teeth missing. You laugh and he looks up at you, grinning.

"What?"

"Even with no front teeth you were still so darn cute," you muse as you hand him the album.

He chuckles. "Yeah, and I was a pain in the ass. My sisters hated me when I was little."

"Aww," you smile. "And here I thought you were a sweetheart."

"I was a pest," he admits as he flip through the album.

You smile as you take out some more of his books. You discover that he has a library book from high school that he never returned, raggedy, thoroughly read copies of _East of Eden_, and _One Hundred Years of Solitude_. You find thick books about the history of both Russia and Cuba, and you always forget that he's part Russian because he identifies more with his Cuban roots. He speaks perfect Russian, but you think that he appreciates his Cuban heritage a little more.

You find another album, this one more recent, and modern in style, and you open it up and find pictures of the team, of you and him when you first began dating, when it became serious. You find a black and white photo of you, in bed, sleeping on your belly, the sheet draped over your lower back, hair splayed over your back. You furrow your eyebrows. Sneaky, very sneaky your husband can be with a camera sometimes.

Then you flip to your wedding picture, and you smile.

You glance down at your ring, and you think back to the conversation with Jake earlier, and you sigh, now wondering if you should have had a coffee with him, just so he could feel safe and normal just a while longer...you admit it, you are only slightly worried about him because he was a part of your life for a bit of time when you were young and stupid about guys. Since then, you've watched him turn into an embittered, hardened cop living on the fringes of life.

"What's on your mind?"

You look at Eric.

"Nothing," you shrug, picking up a stack of books and head to the office to put them on the book shelf.

You hear Eric's heavy footsteps, and you turn to him and smile.

"I think there's plenty of room-"

He puts his hands on your hips.

"Cal...what've you been thinking about?"

You shake your head, smiling. "Nothing. It's nothing, I-"

"Babe, don't do this," he pleads with you. "Talk to me."

You shrug. "Nothing...I was just thinking about earlier...with Jake."

He raises an eyebrow at you. "What happened?"

"Nothing," you insist. "_Nothing happened_, love, I promise you. It's just that I told him about us. He asked me to have coffee with him, and I turned him down. I told him that we were married."

"How'd he take it?"

"Okay," you sigh. "But...he looked...unhealthy. The UC has taken a toll on him and I guess...I guess I'm worried about him."

"Jake made his own choices, Cal."

"I know, but...I didn't drop him anywhere, he just took off and-"

"Do you still have feelings for Jake?"

The question pierces your heart, and you look at Eric incredulously, shaking your head.

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me."

"Oh my God," you huff as you leave the office and go into the bedroom.

"Calleigh-"

"How can you even ask me something like that?"

"Because you had this look in your eyes. I know you too well, Calleigh. We both know each other too well for our own good."

You furrow your eyebrows. "Just what the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"It means that I know you so well because I love you, and that you can be honest with me."

You put your hands on your hips. "There's nothing for me to be honest about, okay? You know my history with Jake, just like I know your history with Natalia. But I'm mature enough to look past it and see it for what it was."

"But I didn't fall in love with Natalia."

This is ridiculous. You both know it, but you'll be damned if you let him get the upper hand because you're hurt now, and he's just being cruel.

"Okay, fine, yes, I still have feelings for him," you hiss, feeling tears spilling down your cheeks. "There? Are you satisfied? Do you _want_ me to still have feelings for him? I am always the one caught in the middle of you and Jake's pissing contest. I love _you_, Eric. Jake has _absolutely_ _nothing_ to offer me because I love what you give me, and what you do for me. How could you think that Jake would have anything better to offer me that I'd take?"

Eric looks away from you, sighing.

"You asked me to talk to you, and I did," you sniffle. "But you used it against me because you always get suspicious on the very rare occasions Jake comes up. That really hurt me, Eric."

"_Carina_-"

You cross your arms over your chest. "No," you interrupt him and pull away from his touch.

You wipe a tear and then cross your arms tighter over your chest.

Eric has hurt you deeply, after you've spent so much time learning how to be more forgiving and trusting toward him, he does this to you. You are almost sick with the hurt, and you go over and sit on the bed. Eric leaves the room, and you lie down, your heart clenching with feelings of betrayal.

You manage to doze off, and you wake up again, this time on your back, and you turn onto your side, feeling fresh, hot tears stinging the brims of your eyes. You sniffle, and release a shuddering breath. Normally, you can handle these things a little better, but you've been through so much the last months that it's worn you down a bit. You can't steel yourself anymore, you can't just move on...your veneer has been cracked along the way.

You hear the door open, and after a few moments, the bed dips behind you. You don't make a move to push Eric away when he slinks his arm over your waist and presses a soft kiss to your shoulder.

"_Carina_, I'm sorry," he whispers.

You tremble and more tears come. "You really hurt my feelings, Eric. How could you even think to ask me something like that? After everything we've been through together..."

"I'm sorry, Calleigh," he says, holding you tighter.

You turn and face him. "I love you, Eric. You are so wonderful to me, you're the most amazing man, and I'm lucky to have you. You see how long Jake has been gone...I-I didn't even tell him about all the stuff that's happened. Everything that's happened to me. Even before we fell in love, you were always there for me. He wasn't. You were the one that stayed up all night with me when I couldn't sleep after being abducted, you held me when John died, when Tim died..."

You wipe away a tear. "Sorry..."

"No," he says. "Don't be sorry, babe."

"You...you took such good care of me after I lost the baby...and for you to think that I'd throw everything we have away...for _Jake_, of all people, that was a low blow, Eric."

He kisses you softly.

"I know...I just hate what he did to you, Cal, and before we got together, I watched you take him back over and over again. I love you so much, and it's not so much out of jealousy that I said what I said...believe it or not, it was a rather misguided attempt at trying to protect you."

You smile. "Well, it's lucky for me you get it right every other time."

He chuckles. "I love you, _carina_. Will you forgive me?"

You kiss him softly. "You're forgiven."

He gently pushes a strand of hair behind your ear.

"Well, I guess I shot this whole evening to hell."

You smirk, and you gently push him onto his back and straddle him.

"I think we may be able to salvage it..."

He puts his hands on your hips, caressing gently. "So uh...you gonna tell me about that fantasy of yours?"

You lean down and kiss him lovingly. "It involves you..."

You press a kiss to his lips.

"And me..."

You unbutton his shirt and push it off before you lean down to kiss his chest.

"In _our_ room, in our bed," you continue, taking off your tank top, revealing pink lace.

He gently pulls you down and he kisses you passionately.

You smile against his lips.

"And not a care," you say between kisses. "In the..." Another kiss. "World."

He rolls you over and you giggle, your love for Eric becoming deeper, brighter, more consuming.

Knowing that scares you.


End file.
